This morning I awoke at 0700 hours . . .
with the help of the ship's computer; I really enjoy sleeping in on off-shift
days. As I took my sonic shower, I was anticipating the upcoming event of the
day. The Klingons had challenged all ships in the Federation's Michigan Sector
to a contest involving strength, agility, endurance, skill, and stamina. I was
hoping I would prove myself worthy of my ship and the Federation in the upcoming
contest.

At 0800, as I piloted my personal shuttlecraft out of the hanger,
I anticipated meeting my Gryphon crewmates at the appointed rendezvous
point in orbit around Oakland Station. The shuttle was handling fine. I was a
little concerned since she had just recently come out of spacedock for
repairs--a rather large mass of protoplasm struck my vehicle about a month ago
not even a full lightyear away from my home. I eased through that with all
sensors at maximum sensitivity--there were no signs of trouble from any more
protoplasmic masses. Past that area, I could now relax. I had plenty of time to
meet my friends as I reached a cruising speed of warp 6 and watched the
rainbow-like streaks zoom by me.

As I approached the station, I received a hail from Lt(jg)
Lorraine Anderson. She reported that there were no docking bays open at the
station. This was a very unusual event; at least we had never seen the station
so busy. With Anderson was a nephew of hers, Robbie Wagner, who would be along
for the challenge on the Federation's side. As I looked him over on the
viewscreen, I was convinced he would be a valuable addition to the Gryphon's
contingent in the contest.

In short order, Lt. Lori Higdon arrived. We helped her moor her
shuttlecraft to some temporary stanchions on the station and she transferred
herself and a small amount of gear to Anderson's shuttlecraft. I had already
decided to travel to the event in my own shuttlecraft; that way, I could adjust
the environmental particulate count to my liking without discomforting my
crewmates. Two other crew members (the Captain and XO) had originally planned to
attend the event, but were prevented from attending by other circumstances. So
four of us that were going were ready. I let Anderson take the lead as we pulled
out from Oakland Station and into the space lanes heading toward the contest.

We maintained warp 7.5 all the way to the site of the tournament,
Cloverlanes, when we dropped into a parking orbit. We found ourselves the first
to arrive at 1100 with plenty of docking bays available. Cloverlanes is an
impressive structure--a large open area covered by a vaulted ceiling. Inside we
found two sections of competition space; each space had thirty-two competition
areas called "lanes" with a kind of promenade between the two areas
with small shops, a bar, and a small food-vending stall. After exploring for a
few minutes, it was obvious where the competition would take place; illuminated
signs over the lanes of one section welcomed us to the event. We settled into
some nearby seats and waited for more contestants to show up.

The Klingons of the IKV Cloaked Vengeance were the first
to appear. They strode in with the loud arrogance of their race, but offered
kind words, smiles, and handshakes as we were introduced. (Well, mostly kind
words--they referred to the Starfleet uniform as pajamas, but all in good fun.)
It was fun observing the reaction of people in Cloverlanes who had never seen a
Klingon in the flesh before. They would surreptitiously point and whisper among
themselves about the arriving warriors. Shortly, representatives from the USS
Valkyrie, USS Empress and the newly commissioned USS White Star
appeared, followed by those from Shuttle Renaissance.

Going over my log thus far, I see I have not given details of
what the contest entailed. The idea is to propel a 7.25-kilogram sphere down a
kind of sidewalk (the lane) at the other end of which are almost a dozen
objects. You are supposed to knock as many of these objects as you can off their
end of the sidewalk. Not being a regular participant in this endeavor, I choose
an optional, lighter sphere (4.5 kg) so my arm would not tire out. A game
consists of hurling your sphere down the lane ten times, except if you do not
knock off all the objects you get one do-over for each of the ten hurls. There
is strange terminology for various combinations of knocked-off objects that I
will not go into here. The scoring is complicated, but fortunately the site's
computer keeps track of it all and it also figures out whose turn it is and
which lane they should use. The event consists of